


Almost Missed You

by writingramblr



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cliche, Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Glasses, Graves always comes fast for Credence bc reasons, Healing, Height Differences, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Post-Movie(s), Religious Conflict, Resolved Sexual Tension, Sexual Content, Sharing a Bed, Suicide Attempt, Tropes, central - Freeform, graves heals credence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-09-09 09:59:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8886589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingramblr/pseuds/writingramblr
Summary: Percival Graves hears someone singing one night walking home, mere days after having caught and apprehended Grindelwald, and he decides to investigate.What he finds will change his life forever. [thanks to a conversation that got out of hand with this PERSONhttp://wateriiterro.tumblr.com/srsly tho thanks]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Hush_My_Darling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hush_My_Darling/gifts).



> so this is an AU where Credence and REAL!&Fake!Graves never met before the shit went down.  
> however, he does kinda know Credence by sight, and since Tina still interfered and saved him that one time.

Credence was running, but he didn’t really know where to, not until he saw the bridge up ahead, the bridge overlooking the fast moving waters, the river he couldn’t remember the name of.   
He never got to learn it.   
His hands were stinging, smarting, and blood was dripping along the stones as he ran, clenching them into fists, making the pain stronger.   
He was so exhausted. It was always the same.   
Witches were evil, but so were humans.   
His not mother was evil.   
His real mother had been a witch.   
But some women were kind.   
The woman with dark hair and dark eyes had been gentle, asking him if he’d eaten recently, and she’d tried to save him from his not mother.   
It didn’t work.   
She just hit him harder.   
So he had left.   
He thought maybe there was a witch child somewhere in the group of orphans they regularly fed and sheltered, but he couldn’t be sure.   
As he climbed onto the side of the bridge, and looked down at the cold waters, they didn’t stop for anything, didn’t even care what he wanted to do, they just kept rushing past.   
Shivering was second nature to Credence, and he hunched against himself, hands now gripping the metal railing by the raised stones of the wall.   
His jacket was so thin, he would need to jump before he froze, before it rained or snowed or he lost his nerve.   
He wondered if he’d die from impact or if he let himself drown instead. It would be so cold, colder than the air, that maybe he wouldn’t even feel the pain in his hands or on his back anymore.   
He couldn’t even imagine how good that would feel.   
Before he could push off, he needed to sing one last hymn. Needed to beg the Lord to forgive him for what he was about to do.   
It started off almost at a whisper, soft, timid, but then he remembered, no one cared, about him, or what he did, so he got louder.   
“…on a hill far away, stood and old rugged cross…”   


* * *

 

Percival Graves was taking the long way home from work; too fragile still to apparate safely and too bored to care it was probably about to snow.   
He was just halfway crossing the bridge when he noticed a lone figure sitting far too close to the edge for his liking. He quickened his steps.   
They were dark haired, slimly built, and seemed to be shaking, and they were… singing?   
Percival tried to quiet his steps while still moving fast, and he could just make out the words, the voice that was a bit low, like trying to sing a lullaby.   
It was one of the Second Salem waifs, but the only boy he remembered seeing. The boy who lit up like a Christmas tree when Percival would give him a smile. The boy Tina had gotten demoted for. But that had been months ago.   
For over a year he’d been out of work, trapped in his own house. Tina, wonderful Tina, had been the one to find him, to save him.   
Yet he’d been insistent, he would not quit working, not back down until they’d caught the bastard for good, and they finally had. The end of seventy hour workweeks was his at last.   
Three blissful weeks of vacation was his reward, not counting the one week he spent in the hospital recovering from imprisonment two months back.   
He blinked, returning to the present, and pressed forward, intent on discovering just what the boy was up to.   
The way he was singing, sounded so sad, even though the lyrics were meant to be hopeful, at least for No-Maj’s.   
When the boy started to stand up, and was leaning forward, one hand grasping the railing, Percival broke into a run. 

The boy was going to jump!   


“… I will cling to the old rugged Cross, and exchange it someday for a crown…”   
Credence got up to his feet, legs wobbly, and with his teeth starting to chatter, and inhaled deeply, still hesitating, just a bit, one hand on the wall, until there wasn’t, then there was a hand on his, and he spun around so fast he nearly slipped.   
“Don’t do this.”   
The voice was low, soothing, and a bit raspy, like the scratch of a quill against old timey paper. Credence gulped.   
It was the well dressed man from the bank.   
Every day he’d seen him come out and look at him and his family, but not with disgust or annoyance like most, he wore something like pity and compassion on his handsome face.   
He was so very handsome, it made Credence feel a swell of forbidden emotion, attraction to a man was immoral.   
Did it really matter anymore? He was about to die.   
“I can’t. I can’t go back.”   
The man’s grip on his wrist was firm, but still gentle enough he could pull away if he really tried. He really didn’t want to, not yet. “What happened?”   
The man’s dark eyes dropped down to his hand, and he realized Credence’s palms and wrists were slick with scarlet. His own blood.   
Now he did want to pull away, to hide himself.   
Hunching his shoulders wouldn’t help now.   
“Nothing, please, let me go.”   
The man was tall, broad shouldered, and looked perfectly warm, if the way his skin burned against Credence’s was anything to go by, so his coat must have been very nice indeed. Credence shivered again, and jerked away, flinching at once, prepared for a slap.   
“I can help you. I would never make you go back where you didn’t feel safe.”   
The man was pleading with him, desperate as Credence felt, and he just shook his head. He couldn’t.   
He’d suffered enough. He wasn’t going to drag a beautiful human being into the horrible shattered mess that was his life.   
“I can’t.”   
Maybe it was the blood, or maybe he just decided in his head, but he slipped and fell backwards, and the last thing he could see was the man looking after him, concern etched on every bit of his face.   
It made Credence smile.   
He really did care.   
Next there would be the water, and the last bit of pain before blissful freedom.   
He closed his eyes as the man began to shrink and the bridge grew more prominent.   
He was ready.   


* * *

 

Percival had tried to reason with him, but clearly the boy was terrified of his own mother, a goddamn sin in and of itself. No child should fear their family.   
But as he tried to keep a hold, tried to pull him back, the boy yanked free and let himself fall.   
“Fuck.”   
Percival pulled out his wand within a half second, not even caring if another No-Maj saw him, and muttered a cushioning charm to precede the boy to the water, before shucking off his coat, and diving in after him. Using a heating charm on the water itself would be a waste of energy, so he retrieved the boy, who looked so calm and peaceful it was almost as if he had wanted to die, and apparated them both to the top of the bridge, snagged his coat, and then turned around to take them to his apartment. Fuck the rules about apparition so soon after recovery. He was fully awake now from that fucking river.   
There was only a slight chill to his home, so he flicked his wand at the fireplace, starting a massive blaze to begin warming the room.   
He stepped away from the boy, who was now shivering in earnest, and looking only mildly terrified and somewhat curious. “Th-th-thank you sir.”   
The cold and wet was making him stutter.   
Percival felt badly at once, and ran his wand over the boy first then himself, drying them both to the skin instantly. “Of course. Not going to let anyone die on my watch, not even a No-Maj who makes a living by telling people that my very existence is a crime.” He meant it as a joke, but it came out sounding less so.   
However the boy wasn’t seemingly scared of him, and he gulped, his eyes wide as saucers as he took in the room, objects dotted around it, some of which were enchanted, along with moving photographs, and then turned back to Percival himself, wand still in hand, and a somewhat apologetic smile on his face.   
“You’re a witch?”   
Percival chuckled,   
“I’m actually a wizard. Ladies are witches. Like Miss Goldstein, I believe you two were acquainted last year?”   
The boy was nodding at once.   
“Yes, I remember her.”   
Percival hummed to himself, and went over to set his coat on the tree beside the door,   
“Shouldn’t though. They should have wiped all of your memories. I suppose she felt bad for you, I mean, she trusted you.”   
“All I know is that she stopped my… mother from hurting me. Just the once.”   
Percival cursed again, low, under his breath, and looked back to see the boy wringing his hands, still covered in blood, despite the dunking in the river. “What did she do to you?”   
The boy suddenly flinched back when he approached again, and he realized perhaps he’d sounded a bit angry, and moved suddenly.   
Percival needed to be careful, to treat the boy like what he was, a wounded creature in need of care and healing. “What’s your name?”   
He tried again, low and soft, and the boy finally looked up to meet his eyes, steadily,   
“Credence, sir. Just Credence.”   
Percival nodded. “I thought I remembered something like that. I’m Mister Graves, but you can call me Percival, Percy if it’s easier.”   
Credence nodded immediately, throat bobbing as he swallowed.   
“Yes sir, I mean Mister Graves, I mean Percy…”   
His cheeks flushed and Percival smiled again, “It’s okay, relax. Let me see your hands, please.”   
He held out one of his own, and Credence carefully, slowly, as if still anticipating a blow, placed one, palm side down, atop his.   
Percival stepped closer, so he wouldn’t have to pull the boy’s arm, and he could still feel him struggling, as if fighting the urge to try and run. “Sh-hh-hh. It’s okay.”   
He turned Credence’s hand over, revealing a couple of nasty cuts still oozing blood on his palm, along with slivers of older marks, ribbed like pinkish ropes on his skin.   
Percival tried to control the fiery rage that was building inside him, not aimed at the boy, but his so called mother, and inhaled slowly, before drawing his other hand across the injured palm.   
Wordless and wandless magic was always his specialty, and he couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t used it sooner, tried to halt the boy from hitting the water at all.   
Percival had just been in shock, he supposed to himself.

* * *

 

Credence watched, frozen, not from cold, but from awe, as the man, Mister Graves, Percy, he’d been told to call him, healed his right hand, without a sound or spell uttered.   
What kind of power did the man possess to do such a thing?   
Credence was still staring when Percy reached over and took his other hand, still so calm, careful, as he touched over his palm, making the skin look brand new, as if it had never been hit.   
“There. That’s better, hmm?”   
Credence swallowed his first instinct, which was to beg the man to never make him leave, keep him safe, teach him magic, if he could, and instead nodded,   
“Thank you… yes, it doesn’t hurt at all.”   
Percy was still holding his other hand, thumb rubbing gently over his knuckles, still a bit cool though dry from the lake water.   
Credence couldn’t help the shiver that escaped him, but it wasn’t from the cold.   
“Here, come sit by the fire. I’ll make up some tea. Or hot chocolate. Which do you prefer?”   
Percy had brought a hand to his back and he flinched slightly, still hunched over on himself, before accepting the lead, and going over to do as he was told, staring into the red and orange flames.   
“Chocolate please.”   
He’d never had such a thing. Sugar was a luxury the church could not afford to waste precious funds on.   
Didn’t stop his… not mother, from using it to help the children keep tabs on each other. Spies were rewarded. Credence had refused to do such a thing, from day one, and here he was, almost seventeen, almost an adult, he guessed, and he’d been without true sugar and any sort of treats his entire life.   
“Tell me Credence, besides what they tell you, what do you know about magic?”   
Credence shrugged, “Nothing really, Mister… Percy.”   
Habit was habit. 

The man walked back to hand him a steaming mug that smelled almost heavenly, and the way he was looking down at him… made him feel strange. It wasn’t the same as he had before he’d jumped. Or after he’d healed him.   
“Credence, you must know that since I am a wizard and you are a, non magical person, technically I shouldn’t have interfered tonight on the bridge. But frankly, I think a lot of our rules, as well as your own, are bullshit.” He was grinning, and taking a seat so close to Credence that his thigh, in the finest navy fabric he’d ever seen, was touching his own, threadbare (and almost see-through in bright sunshine filled days) cotton trousers. “There are laws about things like that?”   
Credence tried a sip of the drink, and was pleasantly surprised it didn’t scorch his tongue, like so many broths and the morning gruel tended to.   
The second the chocolate hit his taste buds he thought he’d definitely died, and made it to heaven somehow. Percy was an angel, and he was just imagining his rescue.   
Credence let out an obscene noise, and nearly squeaked in shock at himself afterwards clapping a hand to his mouth, as Percy turned to eye him, “Everything okay?”   
Heaven or not, Credence knew he needed to be on his best behavior.   
“Yes, oh I’m so sorry, but it’s just delicious. I’ve never had anything like it before.”   
On earth, He didn’t say.   
“So yes, there are laws about mingling or socializing, or worse, fraternizing with No-Majs, or people like yourself. It’s very unfortunate. It’s only this strict in our country. Across the pond, not so much.”   
Percy looked almost wistful, and Credence wondered if he’d ever fallen in love with someone like him, someone who had no powers. Could such a thing be possible?   
No.   
Of course not.   
He was a guardian angel.   
He probably wasn’t allowed to be in love.   
Credence couldn’t help wishing anyway. Wasn’t Heaven supposed to be everything everyone ever dreamed?   
Love of more than just God could be included in that.   
“What’s going on up there? You look a bit lost…”   
Percy was saying, setting down his own mug of tea, not hot chocolate judging by the color, Credence mused, and reaching out, over to tap the side of his head, fingers grazing his temples, and then down, almost caressing his cheek. Credence bit his tongue until he could taste blood to keep from leaning into it.   
“Just wondering, how long can I stay here? Don’t you have more important work to do… than looking after me? A nobody?”   
Percy almost looked shocked at what he’d said, but it was only the truth. He didn’t matter anymore. 

Credence had surely died.   
“I used to think No-Maj’s weren’t important, until I discovered one of my own employees sisters had fallen for one, and they all ended up saving my life eventually. So, I would never say that, you’re not ‘no one.’ You matter. You can’t be trained in magic, but you’re not just taking up space. You can do so much in this world. With or without magic.”   
The man’s hand was still on Credence’s face, and his leg was touching his, accidentally or not, and he felt almost overwhelmed, as if he might drown from so much attention, and contact that didn’t lead to pain and punishment. “You really think so?”   
His voice was a whisper, so quiet he thought maybe Percy didn’t hear him, until he nodded.   
“With all my heart.”   
Percy’s hand shifted, and his fingers drifted over Credence’s jaw, bringing his thumb down to rub against his bottom lip, and he swore his eyes crossed trying to keep focus. “How old are you?”   
Now Percy was whispering too, and it was a rasp, again that soothing sound, forcing Credence to speak, to obey. “Almost seventeen sir.”   
He didn’t know why he was so averse to using the man’s name, but then again, he did. He’d been beaten for less. It was disrespectful to call adults by their first name.   
Too informal.   
Percy exhaled a slow breath, and dropped his hand from Credence’s face,  “I think I need more tea, are you okay?”   
He was getting to his feet, glancing to Credence’s half empty mug, and he just nodded, unsure what else to say. What had he done wrong?   


* * *

Percival didn’t quite know what he was thinking, playing with fire like he was. First of all, bringing a No-Maj home had to be breaking some law.   
Never mind the fact he’d saved his life, because he couldn’t just let him die.   
Second of all, he was way too damaged and excruciatingly lovely to be allowed, looking at him like Percival was some kind of savior, like he was going to be anything but trouble.   
So what if he was on vacation? He couldn’t just, adopt the boy, like some kind of pet, like a stray, and be expected not to get attached to him.   
But he’d chosen to interfere. He’d saved his life. It went to follow logically that now he was responsible for him. Percival wouldn’t just pawn him off to some No-Maj foster care system, which was almost certainly how he had ended up in that hellish church in the first place, being beaten for any little thing and being forced to distribute pathetic anti-witch propaganda. If only that woman knew how much she was protected from true justice by Wizarding laws.   
Percival almost lit his tea kettle on fire for his slip, not paying attention, and instead burned up all of the remaining liquid. “Fuck.” He glanced over out of the kitchen to see the boy still curled up on the couch, eyes drawn to the fire, as if hypnotized.   
It wasn’t like looking at the sun, it couldn’t actually hurt him, but it would probably make it difficult to sleep later…   
Sleep.   
Percival groaned aloud.   
There was no other bed.   
He didn’t have a guest room.   
Barely had enough space for just him in the damn apartment. Fucking New York and the population boom after the No-Maj’s war. Well he certainly wasn’t going to sleep on his couch. But the boy wouldn’t fit on it either. He may have hunched, from years of fear and conditioning by his mother, but if he stood up straight, Percy was almost certain he was a couple inches taller.   
That was out then.   
Damn.   
He wasn’t great at transfiguring, and that wouldn’t change the size of the living room, just the couch.   
It seemed that the boy had arrived at about the same conclusion or question as he had, when he returned with a fresh cup of tea. “Where can I sleep? Is the floor okay?”   
Percival had never feared for his dishes safety before, until now.   
He nearly crushed the cup in his hand. “No. No you will not sleep on the floor.”   
Credence blinked up at him, confused and unaware of Percival’s inner struggle.   
“I don’t mind. It’s probably nicer than the church floor.”   
Percival fought to control his breathing, in and out, in and out. 

“Did you sleep on the floor all the time there?”   
Credence was already shaking his head, sending his minimal black fringe flopping over his forehead,   
“Oh no sir. Only if I’d not managed to hand out my leaflets, or serve enough children dinner.”   
Percival let out a bark of a laugh,   
“Oh is that all? Okay. Well first of all, no company of mine ever sleeps on the floor. Second, your guardian before was a monster, let’s not mince words Credence. People use things like their religion to mask their hatred, or channel it. I think it’s the latter for her.”   
Credence’s eyes widened again, and his cheeks flushed. He agreed, he had to, but he was just unable to speak it aloud. He was still afraid.   
It broke Percival’s still healing body and heart.   
Here was a person who’d been imprisoned, virtually and physically but not even realized it, until perhaps that day. Protect, care for, guide.   
The rules of the Magical Congress of the United States flashed through his mind, and it didn’t matter that Credence was a No-Maj anymore.   
In fact… he couldn’t help wondering.   
The entire reason for his own capture and containment, all for a wild goose chase by the dark wizard.   
Supposedly.   
The president had insisted, there were no Obscurials in America.   
Hadn’t been for decades, since the first Salem trials.   
Percy didn’t care, he had to know. He pulled out his wand, and let it hover in his palm, whispered a spell of his own making under his breath, and waited.   
It spun around, and as Credence was about to speak, to ask, probably just what the hell he was doing, it stopped at pointed at him. A faint red glow surrounded him, visible to Percival only, for just a moment, before fading. “Impossible…”   
He mumbled to himself, and Credence finally did speak, curiosity overwhelming his politeness,   
“Sir? Is everything all right?”   
Percy was beaming before he felt his cheeks begin to ache.   
“Of course, everything is great. Just as I suspected, all this time, you were right here, underneath all of our noses. Even the most powerful dark wizard of all time was too blind to properly look.”   
Credence looked utterly puzzled, and Percy set his cup down to reach for the boy, grasping him by the shoulders, and judging by the stunned look on his face, might have scared him half to death. An unwise choice given just what he contained. “You are not just any No-Maj. You’re not at all. There are traces of magic inside of you. It’s very rare, but not impossible for a child born of No-Maj parents to possess magic.”   
Credence gaped at him.   
“What? But no, that’s just the devil’s energy inside me. I have to fight it every day… lest I be consumed by sin.”   
Percy fought the urge to roll his eyes. It was very strong.   
“Credence… no. Forget everything any human has ever told you. Ask yourself, has anything ever happened that you wanted? Even if it was something small. Something you couldn’t explain?”   
He looked thoughtful for a moment, before despair seemed to overtake him,   
“I didn’t mean to jump. I wasn’t ready. Maybe I called you to me, to save me. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”   
“Oh Credence, no.”   
He wasn’t sorry at all.   
But the boy looked quite upset; as if he thought he’d manifested Percy out of thin air, disturbed him from his life, and used him to save him. Never. Percival had been used before.   
Credence wouldn’t know the first thing about how to do such a thing.   
He fell to his knees before the boy and pulled him into his arms before he could stop himself, unable to see such sadness on a beautiful face.   
“No, don’t think like that. I’m glad I could help you. Glad for it.”   
His hand came up to brace the back of Credence’s neck, holding him close, and he could feel him shaking, possibly crying, whether from sadness or relief he didn’t know.   
Mister Percival was telling him that he had leave off from work, he was free for so many days, and he could even help Credence learn to use the magic he didn’t know he had, if he wanted.   
Of course he wanted that!   
But first, he couldn’t prevent an almost jaw breaking yawn, and the man smiled, not quite amused but perhaps, just a little. “Bed time I think. It’s been a long day for you. Come along, I’ll give you a tour.”   
Credence followed behind him, silently, as the man explained and pointed out the various points of interest in the apartment.   
It was rather small, but then again, he was all alone, and apparently didn’t even have any hobbies, sinful or not. Credence supposed that was a good thing.   
Nothing to have to mentally condemn him for, before he realized he could drop that. The entire toxic line of thought.   
Mister Percival could do whatever he wanted, as long as he didn’t harm anyone else. In fact, he was already so good, being so kind to him, it came to reason if he did have any hobbies, they’d only be for the betterment of people.   
“Hmm?”   
The man had turned around, stopped walking, and caught Credence staring. He nearly ran right into him too, but luckily was fairly quick on his feet.   
Might have been from the sugar in the hot chocolate, but he was simultaneously exhausted in his body but wide awake in his mind. Strange. “Nothing.”   
The man sighed,   
“Please, don’t feel like you have to hide anything from me. Do you have any other injuries you need healed, before you try to sleep on them and hurt yourself further?”   
Credence almost lied.   
It would have been easier. Less embarrassing. “Yes.” He whispered instead.   
Percy sighed,   
“Okay. Let me get ready for bed and then you can have a go, and when you’re done I want to see.”   


* * *

Credence found his heart pounding when he left the man’s bathroom; it was almost nicer and must have cost more than the entire church building, filled with white and black marble, and glass, so much glass. The shower was indecent. The walls were solid glass, two sides and the door, with tiny black and white tiles on the ground and the third wall. It made Credence want to try it out sometime.   
He couldn’t just ask to take a bath. There was no bathtub.   
Credence had changed into a soft pair of flannel pajama pants Mister Percy had said he could have, and was left without a sleep shirt. His old and worn clothing was balled up in the corner and he wanted to put it in the waste basket, but that wouldn’t be right. He couldn’t do that.   
Instead, he wanted to burn them.   
Erase that part of his life.   
So he asked.   
“Can you… can you use a spell to destroy these? Please?”   
He looked to Mister Percy, who had been sitting on his bed reading, glasses poised on his nose, and shirtless, then he noticed Credence emerge from the bathroom, and he lowered his book immediately,   
“Of course. But why? I can transfigure them, make them different…”   
He trailed off when he saw how Credence shook his head,   
“No. I don’t want to wear them ever again.”   
Mister Percy smiled slowly,   
“Well, I guess that means we’ll have to go shopping pretty soon. Can’t have you wandering around like that.” That sort of remark only made him feel worse. 

He didn’t want Percy to have to buy him anything. He already owed the man his life.   
How could he ever dream of repaying him?   
He’d discovered it wasn’t just heaven, and the man wasn’t just an angel.   
In the bathroom, he’d seen the wounds still on his back. 

They wouldn’t allow him into heaven looking like that. It was all still real. He was alive.   
The fact remained, he was without a shirt, and the second he turned around to climb onto the bed, beside the man, he would see his back.   
All the ugliness there.   
Percy had asked, but Credence still felt shame over it.   
He didn’t like having to owe him so much.   
It felt wrong.   
Now his cheeks were hot again, giving him away. “Hey, hey what’s wrong? Here. Come here.”   
Percy was setting the book aside, pulling off his glasses, just for reading, Credence guessed, and retrieving his wand, which had been right next to the lamp on the bedside table.   
Credence shuffled forward and held out the horrible clothing like some kind of perverse offering, and Percy tapped them with his wand.   
They vanished instantly, leaving him with nothing to hide behind. “Sorry, I’m just cold.”   
Credence was only apologizing for the rudeness of his own body, shivering and hugging himself, he couldn’t move another step.   
“It’s fine. I apologize I don’t have an extra casual shirt. I usually don’t sleep in them myself.”   
Credence had tried not to stare, but now, it was like he’d been jabbed in the side, ordered to look, to see the miles of bare skin that was Percy’s own upper body. Some freckles on his chest, and a fine dusting of dark hair, like the top of his head, not the silvery sides, and then a defined bunch of muscles, and down to where the line of his own pajama pants cut across his navel.   
Credence gulped and looked away as fast as he could, but it was too late. His blush was already spreading down his neck, his own body betraying him. “Now, where else are you hurt?”   
Percy’s voice seemed to shatter the silence, and Credence breathed a shaky sigh, and then turned around, squeezing his eyes shut, bracing for the worst. The man said nothing, not directly to him, but he did curse, swearing for several seconds before Credence heard fabric shifting, and then warm hands on his bare shoulders, almost making him jump. “I’m so sorry this was done to you. Truly.”

Credence tried to shrug against the heavy touch, “It’s okay. I did something wrong, and I was punished for it.”   
Fingers tightened on his skin, and instead of being scared, he felt a thrill of something hot run down his spine.   
Percy would never hurt him, not like that.   
“No. You could never have done anything to deserve this.”   
Credence sighed again, and swallowed his words, didn’t want to argue with him, but when the man’s hands shifted, and slid down his arms to brace at his sides, he couldn’t help the way he tensed his body, and Percy noticed.   
Of course he did.   
“Don’t worry. I’ll just need to get some dittany for these. They aren’t fresh enough to be healed by just spells like your hands. Please, lay down on the bed for me. I’ll be right back.”   
Then Percy was moving away from him, strong warmth gone from his back, and the door to the bathroom closed.   
Credence shivered again, and then did as he was told; pressing a cheek carefully against the pillow Percy had been leaning against, feeling almost a hint of warmth from his body.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey now hey now this it what dreams are made of, this is the smuuut.

Percival hadn’t been lying about the healing being out of even his range of power, but god, he’d needed a minute away from it all.   
The boy was just so pure, so untainted by anything but the physical evils of the world, it was completely wrong the way he was feeling. He wanted nothing more than to ravish the poor creature.   
It went against about everything in his ethics, and considering what he’d only recently escaped, he couldn’t believe he was thinking about, even asking for.   
Credence would say yes, probably not knowing better.   
He’d certainly already obeyed every order given to him, even unconsciously.   
It made Percival almost insane.   
So he’d run to retrieve the medicine, and also, take care of his annoying problem.   
The second Credence had come out of the bathroom, wearing his clothing, he’d known how fucking gone he was, and he’d been half hard since he’d nearly kissed the boy earlier.   
Now it was worse.   
Fully distracting.   
It took entirely way too little time to take himself in hand, think of just how sweetly the boy had looked at him after he’d first touched that perfect face of his, and imagine coming all over it before he was biting his lip, and shooting off into the toilet.   
He sighed, and waved his hand, cleaning himself and the abused porcelain, before retrieving the dittany bottle and returning to his bedroom.   
Good thing he had a tight grip on it, otherwise he’d have ruined his carpet, at the sight of Credence face down on the bed, arms braced at his side, blue flannel covered legs slightly spread, and clearly breathing heavy, awaiting him.   
It was wrong, so very wrong of Percival to ogle him, but the sight of clear malnourishment and the way he could almost count Credence’s ribs without even touching him just made him angry all over again.   
Healing first.   
Now that he wasn’t dizzy with arousal, Percival could focus on that, on being the benevolent, good host.   
“Hold still, it may sting a little, but the wounds have to be reopened and start knitting back together.”   
That wasn’t strictly how dittany worked, but it also wouldn’t do shit for scar tissue, so Percival had to cut the boy himself, much as it pained him. Credence was silent, and just nodded.   
Percival tried not to think about how many times the boy had experienced such a thing, and learned to remain quiet, potentially to avoid further beatings, but there he was, thinking about it.   
He fisted his hands together, and the gash spread a bit further than he meant to, drawing a gasp from Credence, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”   
Percival quickly resumed focus, and then pulled open the bottle of dittany, distributing a generous amount over the boy’s ruined back, even taking the time to rub it in, a completely unnecessary gesture, but he didn’t care.   
He wanted it to be perfect.   
As he watched, the skin did exactly as it was supposed to, with the magical aid. New skin formed first, pink and raw looking, before another swipe of the dittany encouraged a second, and finally, it would be safe to touch or rest on.   
“Okay, roll over, see how it feels on the sheets.”   
Percival stoppered the bottle again, noting he’d used nearly half of it and set it aside.   
When he looked back to Credence, he could see the boy struggling, and his hands were at his sides, balled into fists. “I can’t.”   
Percival wondered why he was crying, and he knelt beside him, stroking back his stray bangs from his forehead, feeling his skin, it was almost feverish. “Why not? Are you in pain somewhere else?”

Credence shook his head, “Not pain. It felt… really good. I didn’t mean to…”   
Percival swallowed thickly, finally drawing two and two together in his mind. The boy was almost frightened of what he would do or say, and he’d been so quiet…   
Of course.   
The overpowering of healing could sometimes induce such a reaction, and taking into account the boy’s past experiences, practically none, of positive feelings, it was almost expected that he’d be shy, even concerned about what had happened. “Credence… it’s okay. It’s perfectly ordinary.”   
He squeezed his eyes shut, and Percival saw a tear escape. “I made a mess of your nice pants, your bed too.”   
Percival got back to his feet, and he saw the boy flinch, “It’s easily remedied. But you need to roll over.”   
“I can’t.”   
Percival sighed, growing a touch impatient, “Why not? It’s done with. Nothing to be ashamed of.”   
Credence almost moaned, “It’s still hard. I don’t know what to do.”   
Well.   
That was more surprising.   
“Please, it’s all right. Just move over a little.”   
Credence finally did as he was told, and Percival told himself to just fucking ‘grab his wand and do what he needed to do, assuage the boy’s fears, and then don’t do anything stupid.’   
Too late.   
Even when he’d been cleaned, and the top sheet as well, nothing it hadn’t seen before, Credence was curling up into a ball against himself, arms around his knees, newly healed back the only thing Percival could see, unless he let his eyes drift down the boy’s spine.

“Look, you aren’t going to go to sleep like that…”   
He started, but Credence was already shaking his head, “I’ve slept through it before. I’ll be okay.”   
Percival looked to the ceiling, as if anyone up there could help him, and then reached over to put a tender hand on the boy’s shoulder.   
“Credence, listen to me. It’s nothing to ignore, and it’s not wrong. You can go into the bathroom and take care of yourself. So you can sleep easy.”   
It pained him to say that, but it was really for the best.   
He didn’t dare ask to help with that.   
“I’ve never, I wasn’t allowed to touch myself. I’ve done it to someone, once, on a dare. But I got three scars when mother found out.”   
Percival tried to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at that revelation and just focused on the bitch.   
“She’s not your mother anymore. She doesn’t deserve that title.”   
“I know.”   
“Now, what do you propose I do? I could use a charm to make it go away, but that’s hardly healthy, or I can tell you the basics of what you need to do.”   
Credence was shaking his head again, and it was so goddamned frustrating Percival wanted to scream, until he shifted, and rolled back to look at him, dark eyes still wet with tears,   
“Can you show me? So I know what to do if it happens again?”   
Oh it would happen again.   
A lot.   
It’s life.   
Percival however had seemed to have lost all coherent thought in that instant, so he just nodded.   
Credence suddenly smiled so prettily and finally emerged from the egg like shape he’d been trying to contort his body into and moved over to hug him.   
Percival didn’t know where to put his hands, and as the boy pressed against him, he could certainly feel the offending erection nudging his hip.   
Well fuck.

* * *

 

Credence could scarcely believe how nice Percy was being. Even though he should have been sickened and repulsed by how perverse he had been, having such a horrific reaction to being healed, to something nice, it was still shocking when the man told him to lay down on his back, and just watch what he did.   
The man leaned on an elbow, facing him proper, eyes locked with his for a moment, before he started speaking in an almost instructive tone, a calm and steady cadence, drawing his palm flat down Credence’s abdomen, towards the mortifying tent in his pajama pants, and when he slid his hand beneath the waistband he nearly forgot how to breath, and forget about properly watching.   
His back arched and his toes curled, and Percy had barely touched him with even his whole hand.   
“It’s all about the wrist, you’ll need to keep it locked tight, and use steady even pressure, until you think you’re close, then you can focus on the head and really, that’s where it’s the most sensitive.”   
Percy sounded a little hoarse at the last bit, but Credence didn’t even notice, he was lost, drifting into some kind of hazy blissful state, every bit of his focus on the points where the man’s hand made contact with his cock. His thumb brushed over the head, the slickest part that had caused so much trouble before, and Credence couldn’t hold back a shout, and his hips jerked, as he came again, too soon, far too soon, into the man’s hand and again messing up his pants. Credence wasn’t capable of words yet, the awe and giddiness of that climax lingering, as Percy kept a loose hold on him, and it had felt so much better than just rutting against the sheets, unconsciously.   
“Oh my god. No one’s ever touched you before?”   
Percy was asking, and Credence could only shake his head. “Holy shit. That was fucking incredible.”   
Credence turned over to look at the man, slightly confused, it was all educational, just a demonstration, right?   
The man looked a bit like he’d just seen something bloom to life, and he didn’t even seem bothered by the white stickiness on his hand, he’d just pulled it back out of Credence’s pants… and was licking it.   
Credence felt something hot and wicked inside of him snarl awake, and he froze, unsure what to do.   
“I apologize. I didn’t mean to, uh, well, I got a little carried away.”   
Percy was already waving his fingers, vanishing the mess and Credence felt warm and dry once more, but he was bewitched, hypnotized by the man, and feeling bold, he asked,   
“How does it taste?”   
He’d never gone that far, never done anything so perverse, just touching another man was bad enough, he couldn’t imagine putting his mouth on such a forbidden place, until he did. The only man he wanted to do that to was Percy.   
Percy was looking over at him with something he’d never quite seen before, something almost dangerous in his dark eyes, “Mouth-watering.”   
Credence’s eyes widened and the man wasn’t a handful of inches away anymore, he was on top of him, lips pressing against his own, body a broad and warm weight, but not unwelcome.   
He was just surprised.   
But Percy was kissing him!   
Like a man kissed a woman if they were to be married, or were already.   
It felt different, somehow.   
Maybe it was the scrape of Percy’s stubble over his chin, or the way he seemed to be desperate, starving almost, the way his mouth moved and his lips parted, a hot wet tongue pressing against the seam of his own mouth, and so Credence yielded, allowed the man to kiss him deeper, and he could feel something heavy and hard nudging against his still sensitive softened cock.   
“Sorry, sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”   
Percy was breaking away, pushing himself up and off of Credence, and the whimper of a whine that escaped him was automatic, unconscious.   
“Please, no, wait.”   
Percy glanced down at him, hair falling out of the perfect styling it was usually, and his mouth looked reddened, as if from the kiss.   
Credence wondered what he looked like, bracketed between the man’s arms. He hoped he looked good.   
“You’re okay with this? I mean, I really shouldn’t even be asking you, you can’t possibly comprehend what-”   
Credence frowned,   
“What? You kissed me. I liked it. I don’t want you to stop. What’s hard to understand about that?”   
Percy blinked, “Well, nothing I guess. But you’re still fragile. I don’t want to impose, to make you think you need to do anything for me…”   
Credence licked his lips, and he noticed how Percy’s eyes darted to follow the movement.   
“I want you to kiss me. I want to do things for you. I want to… touch you too. Like that.”   
Glancing down to the man’s groin, he saw what he thought he’d felt earlier, and it almost made him dizzy.   
He was the cause of that.   
Not some injury he’d offered to heal on the man.   
Percy let out a shaky breath, “You can’t say things like that to me, and expect me to just ignore it.”   
“Don’t.”   


* * *

 

Percival was better than that. He didn’t want to ever take advantage of anyone, so he asked Credence again, he pulled away completely, and sat up on his side of the bed, and looked over at the boy, waiting, hoping his eyes didn’t show how much he was begging him to say yes.   
“I want to. I’ve never wanted something so much in my entire life.”   
“Why?”   
Credence bit his lip again, and Percival ached to be doing it instead.   
“It feels good. Kissing you. When you touched me.”   
Credence was now shifting up, getting to his knees to crawl over him, and Percival’s heart started skipping beats, hands unsure of where to land.

When the boy was straddling him, his own hands braced on Percival’s shoulders, and he could see the elegant line of his neck, ripe for marking, he decided, fuck it, he was going to do what he wanted.   
“It can be even better.”   
Credence was leaning in, inches away, “Show me. Please.”

Well, that did it.   
Percival stole his lips in another kiss, still hungry and anxious, but with less hurry, and his hands roamed over Credence’s bare back, feeling a moan almost vanish into the kiss.   
The boy wasn’t quite grinding down on him, but it only took a bit of encouragement to do just that. Hands on hips guided him up perfectly, so that Percival could thrust up between the boy’s legs, his cock just brushing against the back of his pajama covered ass. He didn’t want to hurt him, so he loosened his hands, but Credence reached down to put them right back on his ass, and broke the kiss to murmur, “You can’t hurt me. I’m not made of glass.”   
Even if he did hurt him by accident, Percival knew for certain the boy wouldn’t hesitate to tell him, considering how much he enjoyed old wounds being healed.   
A few more moments of that, heated kissing and mild groping and grinding, and Percival was fully prepared to put the boy to shame, coming in his own pants like he was a teenager again.   
Until Credence stopped, and started kissing, sloppily and with little finesse, but adorably persistent, down his neck and chest. “What are you-?”   
Credence was already scooting back and his hands were fumbling at Percival’s waistband before he remembered to breathe.   
“Oh…”   
That.   
“I want to taste you as you finish.”   
“Did you fall out of heaven for me?”   
Percival couldn’t help asking, stupid as it was, and Credence only spared him a little smile and shake of the head before he was touching his cock, pressing his lips on his shaft, proceeding to throw him back into the final countdown without his permission. “Okay, easy there.”   
He put a hand through Credence’s short and horribly cut hair, and decided he liked how it made him hum against him, and the fight was over, he was done and gone.   
Credence didn’t say a word, just kept stroking him while keeping his kiss reddened lips perfectly sealed around the tip of his cock, and he thought maybe, just maybe, he’d have to ask for that sort of thing again.   
Oh, he’d even consider begging for it.   
Vacation or not, by the time Credence crawled back up to hug him, and press a slow kiss to his cheek, Percival was exhausted.   
“Sleep?”   
Credence just nodded, and didn’t protest when Percival waved a hand to douse the lamps.   
It wasn’t comfortable just leaning against the pillows and headboard, so Percival carefully shifted them down, so that he was holding Credence against his body, turned to the side, and with a pillow underneath both their heads. No point in having a stiff neck during the shopping trip the next day.   


* * *

 

“That one is good, give us a spin.”   
Credence tried to keep the blush from his cheeks, but it wasn’t easy. The clothing felt strange, starchy and stiff, and he could see how Percy eyed him, even around the store clerk.   
“It’s okay.”   
“Too formal.”   
Percy was already kind of reading his mind, so he nodded.   
He was telling the clerk something, and then she was off, going among the racks and shelves.   
“Come on now, you looked so good in my old suit, you really hate this one?”   
Credence pressed his lips together,   
“I don’t hate it. It’s just, not me. I can’t believe we’ve been here three times.”   
Percy nodded,   
“Okay, okay yeah. I’m sorry. I just thought, a suit too would be so great. You’ve got… well, forget that. Just pick a color you know you like, and we’ll buy three shirts in white, and I’ll transfigure them later for you, okay?”   
“What about more pants?”   
Percy smiled, “Oh that’s easier. You’re set on black. They come in navy and khaki is all they have left to come in. Unless you want sage green?”   
Sage had some religious connotations to it, and Credence found himself shaking his head.   
“I don’t think so. Just dark colors for me.”   
Percy squeezed his shoulder, and nodded.   
The clerk was back, and he stepped away from Credence, leaving him feeling a bit colder.   
“Will this work for your son?”   
Percy stared at the woman for a moment, before flicking his gaze to Credence, who was frozen, unable to react properly. “Yes, that is fine. Please wrap up three white silk shirts and these, and we’ll be out of your way. He’ll be wearing those pants and that shirt out of here, so just ring them up too.”   
The woman nodded and scurried away.   
“Why didn’t you say something?” Credence was asking, almost in a whisper.   
Percy sighed,   
“It’s better not to argue with them sometimes. I don’t want any unnecessary questions. Like if we should run into anyone I work with. I think its best, if it’s not Tina, to go along with that.”   
Credence couldn’t help frowning, “But I don’t like that. I’m not a child.”   
Percy walked over to smooth the tops of his shoulders in his second jacket, and he leaned in just close enough to dazzle Credence with his cologne, “I know. I know.”   
They had left the shop only a moment and were walking down the sidewalk when Percy cursed aloud, and Credence looked over at him, confused. “What’s wrong Percy?”   
Before the man could open his mouth to explain, Credence followed his gaze to find the tall dark haired woman, Tina, about to pass them on the path. “Miss Tina! Hi.”

She was beaming, and Percy looked annoyed.   
“Mister Graves, and Credence. How nice to see you two. I trust you’re feeling well Mister Graves?”   
Percy nodded curtly, and Credence was torn between watching the two of them, but the face the man was making was almost comical. He looked very annoyed but also trying to cling to politeness.   
“How’s everything at MACUSA Miss Goldstein?”   
Tina shrugged,   
“Oh you know, same as can be. The trials won’t start for another couple weeks.”   
She sobered slightly, and Percy nodded.   
“Good, good to know. I’ll be back by then. Tell Picquery I said hello, we must be off.”   
Credence was nodding along with Percy, even as Tina gave him a little wink,   
“Yes Mister Graves, thank you. Have a good afternoon.”   
They went down the closest alleyway, and Percy was grabbing his arm, twisting on the spot.   
Credence still felt shaky when they landed, but they had only done that a handful of times, and he wasn’t quite used to it.   
“Why did we have to leave so fast? Why are you mad at Miss Tina?”   
Percy sighed, and set the bags from the clothing store down to press a hand to his temples,   
“Credence, there’s a lot going on at my workplace right now. It’s not quite easy to explain. But I was her boss. So her seeing you address me so informal amused her and makes me annoyed.”   
Credence ran over to him to throw his arms around his waist, hugging him tightly, hunching down despite himself,   
“I’m sorry. Can you forgive me?”   
One of Percy’s hands came up to stroke the back of his neck, and he could feel the man leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead,   
“I’m not upset with you, my boy. I’m just frustrated. I have cabin fever I think. Too much vacation.”   
“It’s me isn’t it? I’m annoying. You’re cooped up here with me, and you’re bored.”   
Percy chuckled, and the sound vibrated through Credence, sending a frisson of heat down his spine,   
“Bored? In two weeks? Hardly. You keep me very thoroughly entertained. I just hope you don’t get bored here and decide to run away and stay with Miss Goldstein. I’d miss you. Come now, stand up straight. No need to pretend.”   
Credence moved back to do as he was told, looking at him, “Really?”   
Percy’s dark eyes were locked on his, “Really.”   
It was almost second nature for him to kiss Credence when he looked at him like that, and so he let his eyes fall shut, enjoying the sensation, savoring the moment, before it broke, and Percy was asking,   
“Are you cold?”   
He shook his head.   
“Well I am. I’m going to go take a quick shower. Why don’t you sort through your new clothing?”   
Credence felt his question die in his throat, and he nodded.   
He wanted to know why he had to pretend to be Percy’s son, but here, he could just be his.   
Only a few moments passed before he got tired of looking at the clothing, still too stiff and new and just, too fine for him, and he wandered into the hallway and towards the bathroom.   
Percy was singing to himself in the shower.   
It wasn’t a song Credence knew, not a church hymn, and it sounded vaguely suggestive, like it could be a love song about any two people. His cheeks heated, and he moved closer to listen.   
Due to the size of the apartment, that meant he had to go inside the room, and because of the glass surrounding the shower, it meant he had an almost unobstructed view of Percy inside, naked.   
He’d seen him like that before, at least, almost. But every time he had showered and Percy had been around, he’d acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world, brushing his teeth in the same room, shaving his constantly growing beard.   
It wasn’t quite the same.   
“Credence, what are you doing?”   
It wasn’t really a question, since the man could clearly see him, and Credence was already backing up, stammering apologies.   
“Come now. Don’t be shy. If you want to join me, you need only ask.”

Percy was opening the door, steam escaping and nothing at all blocking Credence’s view now.   
“Are you sure there’s room for me?”   
Percy was smirking, “Oh yes.”   
He snapped his fingers and Credence’s clothing vanished, but not entirely. He knew by how often Percy had done it for him, that his clothing would be folded and on the end of the bed.   
“Okay.”   
Stepping into the shower, he was embraced first by steamy warmth and then actual hot skin as Percy pulled him close, and kissed him a bit roughly.   
Had he missed him really? Had he been thinking of him in here?   
Credence didn’t even want to look down, as he was already hard and unsure how to hide himself without drawing undue attention, but Percy didn’t seem bothered.   
“Mmm, you look so pretty like this, soaking wet and blushing all over. You know that?”   
Credence could only shake his head, and when Percy reached down to palm his cock he let out a gasp.   
“Back up for me, that’s it, brace yourself against the wall.”   
Before Credence could ask what he was doing, Percy was already getting down onto his knees, carefully, with the slippery tile beneath him, and then the man was bringing his hands up to grip the back of Credence’s thighs, before leaning in, pressing a lewd open mouthed kiss just inches away from his cock.   
“Percy!”   
Oh they’d discussed it, he’d done it to the man several times, and he’d loved it, but that here and now was still a surprise, and even with steam trying to cloud his vision, he forced his eyes open, to enjoy every second.   
Percy didn’t say anything when Credence finally reached down to card a hand through his wet hair, and he only moved faster, fingers tightening on his legs, pulling him closer, humming against the cock in his mouth, and Credence finally had to look away, just to lean his head back against the glass and blaspheme just a little.   
The noises his mouth made on Credence were almost washed away by the sound of the water, but it still made his stomach clench and his spine tingle. “I’m, I think I’m gonna…”   
Credence was probably hurting Percy with the grip on his hair, but the man never protested and even remained, stayed sucking and licking until it was nearly painful.   
“Please…” He’d never had to beg him to stop before, but Percy just pulled back and chuckled.   
“You look so angelic when you come.”   
“I think we’ve used all the hot water.”   
Was all Credence could manage.   


* * *

 

Percival dried off lazily with a towel and tried to ignore how much he loved challenging his ward, whether it was sexually or not. “You didn’t…”   
Credence was still blushing, and toweling himself with a sort of urgency that made Percival wonder what he did after his usual five minute shower, air dry?   
Like he expected everything good that had happened to him to be all a lie?   
“No. I can taste that you still have a question. Go on then.”   
Credence’s eyes were wide, and Percy only smiled more.   
“What?”   
“About us playing father and son? You don’t have any questions?”   
Credence dropped his eyes,   
“Oh.”   
Percival sighed,   
“It’s nothing to be concerned about. Plenty of young men have older lovers. This sort of arrangement isn’t that rare. It just so happens to be the fact I’m a wizard and you’re not quite… yet. People will make assumptions about you for your entire life. It’s up to you if you want them to bother you.”   
“Is that what we are? Lovers?”   
Credence looked so hopeful all of a sudden, it made Percival’s heart ache.   
He never tossed that word around easily, just like he wouldn’t let just anyone into his house after what had happened.   
“We can be, yes. I don’t want you to feel obligated into anything, ever. I want you to be able to walk away at any time.”   
Credence looked a bit hurt at that,   
“I don’t want to walk away. I still want you to teach me magic, and I, I could play the part of your son when we go out. I don’t mind.”   
Percival smiled gently,

“I want those things too. I’m just saying, I never want you to feel trapped with me.”   
Credence didn’t quite drop the towel to come at him for another hug, but almost.   
He was so frail still, yet warmer than Percival had ever felt him.   
“Thank you.”   
The words basically kissed his skin, so close was Credence to him, cheek pressed with a sort of desperation against his shoulder. “Of course.”   
Moved to the coziness of the bedroom, Percival was reading again, he hadn’t really gotten much further than from that first night they’d shared the bed, and Credence spoke up from where he was curled up at his side, “How can that affect us when not in public?”   
Percival looked down at him, and realized with the glasses for reading, he could see specks of green in Credence’s eyes.   
“It’s something that sometimes is explored in a sexual manner between two people, even if there isn’t any sort of an age gap. It’s pretty simple. You could call me Daddy, I’d still be Percy, but only when we’re out of the bedroom, or not out in public playing a part.”   
Credence was already blushing. Percival wondered if he ever really stopped those days.   
“Oh.”   
“Does that answer all your questions, my boy?”   
Percival let a hand drift over to stroke a hand through his still damp hair, and he noticed that it was growing slightly, since he’d asked if he could try charming it a week back, to get it out of the far from flattering style it had been.   
“Yes.”

“Good.”   
Percival had just turned back to his book when Credence spoke again,   
“When do we start?”   
He reached up to pull off his glasses and look down at the boy again,   
“Start?”   
He blinked, wide eyed but not quite innocent,   
“When did you want me to start calling you Daddy?”   
Percival managed a gulp and swore he felt his cock twitch at the thought,   
“You can start right now if you want my boy.”   
Credence sat up a little and beamed at him, before leaning in to press an eager kiss to his surprised face.   
“Okay, so no more reading tonight.”   
Percival broke the kiss to murmur, setting aside the book and his glasses in one move, before turning back to Credence, and suddenly pinning him to the bed, and he could see his pulse leaping at his throat,   
“Is this what you want?”   
Credence just nodded.   
“Answer me verbally.”   
“Yes Daddy.”   
Percival was already grinning,   
“I could get used to that.”   
He leaned down to press a few hurried kisses to the boy’s lips before proceeding to mark him on his neck, feeling him squirm and whimper beneath him, and his cock was almost painfully hard, he needed to come, but he wasn’t sure what he really wanted, and he needed to know what Credence wanted.   
“How are you feeling? What do you want me to do?”   
Credence was squeezing his eyes shut tight, and his hands were painfully tight against Percival’s back,   
“I want you, Daddy.”   
“Where?”   
Percival nearly growled, and Credence arched his back, pressing his hips and nearly hard cock against him,   
“I don’t know…”   
He sounded strained, desperate, and Percival knew it was a bad idea, but he’d never wanted something so badly.   
“Do you want me inside you?”   
Instead of wondering how or why, Credence just nodded, eager and perfect.   
“We’ll go slowly.”   
Of course, it was all new to Credence, all of it beyond just fingers and the occasional kiss that skirted by, but he loved it.   
Percival had never seen such bliss on his face, not since the bridge… it didn’t bear thinking about.   
“How’s that feel? Is it good? Too much?”   
He’d worked up to two fingers inside of Credence, using the same charm, and he was all slippery heat, and still he was squirming, as if begging for more.   
“Yes Daddy, feels so good.”   
Percival decided that that was his new favorite thing. The way his voice broke on the word.   
“My sweet boy, I think you’re almost ready now.”   
“Please.”   
Credence just breathed, and opened his eyes, just in time to meet Percival’s as he carefully began to push his slicked cock inside of the tight ring of muscle, and then his eyes closed shortly after, his back arching, and the groan that escaped his lips was indecent.   
He looked utterly delicious, and Percival couldn’t resist leaning down to kiss him, slowly moving his hips, pressing inside slow as he could bear.   
Credence was still holding him frantically, nails probably leaving marks on his back, and it only made Percival smile into the kiss.   
“How are you doing?”   
Credence just nodded, and tried to catch his breath,   
“Good. It’s different, but you feel good.”   
Percival smirked, and freed a hand to touch Credence’s cock, nearly trapped between their bodies, curved up to his stomach, and then he could feel him tighten around him.   
He wasn’t going to last very long, but then again, when it came to Credence, he rarely did.   
Beyond words at that point, he just kissed him again, and prayed he’d done enough to get him close too, and he let go, lost himself in the feeling, and he swore he could taste sparks.   
Credence let out a little gasp of a cry, and then was wrapping his legs around Percival’s back, as if he never wanted him to pull away, his cock weeping out his own release on his stomach and chest.   
Percival panted and rested his forehead against Credence’s shoulder, wondering if his magic had just manifested, in a singular moment of happiness.   
“Do you feel okay?”   
Credence was nodding before he could even try to look at him, and easing himself out, Percival could see he’d been crying.   
“Are you sure?”   
“Y-yes.”   
He blinked, and then smiled, looking almost ethereal,   
“It was really nice.”   
“Oh you sweet boy. You are too much for me sometimes.”   
Percival couldn’t manage the strength to laugh, but he waved a hand to clean them up, and then fell back against the sheets, feeling Credence scoot close enough to curl against him.   
“You had fun too?”

“Of course. Always. I’m so proud of you.”   
Credence was smiling as he closed his eyes, and Percival thought maybe, if they’d been in total darkness, he might have been glowing.

**Author's Note:**

> this story is not meant to be disrespectful in any way to people experiencing suicidal thoughts or to say that 'magic' or 'the power of love' can instantly cure you.  
> it merely is a look at what if Credence hadn't had any awareness of his power as the Obscurus and just wanted a way out, without causing any one else harm, ie by leaving the church to do so.  
> anyway hope yall like this.  
> if not, im sorry ive had a very shitty week and this is the best i can do.


End file.
